


Castiel tries to give Sam a hug

by schmevil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hugs, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmevil/pseuds/schmevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castiel tries to give Sam a hug

**Author's Note:**

> This is from last year. Just moving stuff over here.

"It's going to be okay," Castiel says. Flatly - even he can tell that it lacks the appropriate emotional resonance. That it might sound fake; perhaps uninterested. He's not uninterested - rather, he simply doesn't know how to do _this_.

Sam huffs softly, a short and humorless laugh. "You don't need to lie to me, Cas. Really."

"You looked... like you needed reassurance."

"Yeah, I... I wouldn't turn it down right now. But it's _not_ going to be okay."

"Sam-"

"No, Cas. You don't lie to make me feel better. I appreciate that, even when it's hard to hear." Sam crosses his arms and huddles deeper into the side of the couch, as though he needs it to hold up his weight.

Castiel does not have the words to give him comfort - are there words? He finds that he wishes - for a moment, and certainly to his surprise - that Anna were here, so he could ask her: what can I do? How do humans do this? How do they turn the darkest moments, to something light?

But Anna isn't here. Nor is Dean. There is no one to ask, and Castiel has to rely on his own experiences and observations. He can't lie for Sam. He doesn't have the skill. But he can give him something else.

He shifts closer to Sam, his trench coat rustling softly against the couch's upholstery. It's loud in the room that's now so quiet, with Dean and Bobby gone from it. Sam doesn't react, simply continues staring into the empty fire place. Castiel lays a hand on his shoulder, lightly at first. When Sam doesn't startle, or protest, he let's the full weight settle onto him.

For a moment-- nothing. Sam sighs. Looks down to his lap, to Castiel's leg, half folded underneath him. His eyes skittering from object to object, perhaps nervously.

"Cas-"

Castiel pulls away, but Sam follows him, leans into his retreating hand. "Don't. It's ok there, like that." So he leaves his hand on Sam's shoulder - lets it slide across his shoulders, so that more of his arm is in contact with Sam. Then Sam shifts, pushing away from the couch's arm and meeting Castiel halfway. They're pressed close together in the middle of the couch, Sam awkwardly leaning into Castiel's side.

"I don't know how to do this," Castiel says, sure that everything, absolute uncertainty and all, is obvious.

"You're doing just fine," Sam says, pressing closer, so his words are almost smothered in Castiel's shoulder.

It lasts a minute. Perhaps less. Then Sam is sitting up again, pulling away from him. Castiel feels acutely the absence of his warmth - it's so human a thing to feel, to miss.

"Thanks, Cas."

"It was... no problem." No problem, he says again to himself. Testing out the colloquialism. None at all, he finds.


End file.
